Adirondack Poems

Autumnal New York

Shimmering in a chilly mist,
skyscrapers overlooking NYC.
August left into September's cooler mornings,
schoolchildren dressed in plaid and Hush Puppies.

In Central Park the leaves are a green-yellow,
squirrels scurry to store acorns.
Pretzel vendors appear as joggers feel
relieved from humidity,
in autumnal New York.

Driving headed north,
Upstate farms yield cider,
and the Catskills and Adirondack mountains
are banners of emerging colors.
Deer gather from the edge of the woodland
to drink from a pond as the fading moon sails,
in autumnal New York.

Years ago my siblings and I in our Long Island
suburban yard,
leapt into golden and red maple leaf piles,
and ate candy apples-
How much simpler and joyful our lives
were then,
in autumnal New York,
I wish I were still in,
autumnal New York. ~

Before I Go

Smile at me one last time
Send me on my way to rhyme 
The days I'm at my thinking spot
Are now more often than they're not
My seat, an Adirondack chair
It's one of two just sitting there
The second empty, waiting, true
Like me it also longs for you

Departed

The sun hides behind the rippling wave-like clouds
The wind slinks like a hungry cat
quiet and soft not bending my red zinnias
heart shaped flowers in my front yard
And the day is an icecube in summer.

I sit in my grey adirondack chair
Intrusive doleful thoughts hang around in my head
My face is of a lonely puppy in rain
Lowered lip conners 
Drooping eyelids
Like a priest gazing at a widow
I look.

For her memories linger in my head
Like a turquoise forgotten sea between tall mountains
I lay silent with no waves
But amidst the pounding memories, there is one I remember and my lips widen,
At the sea..
When wind was angry and strong making your blue short dress wiggle
You held sea shells in your soft palms
and called my name with equanimity
While smiling , your face was flowers in autumn.

Your absurd departure left a million questions
Was I not what you had hoped for?
Did I not make myself deserve you?,and more
Funny how birds still chirp on my neighbors roof
But I nolonger see the rising of the sun on the same
I thought I was the man who could make time not fly by
You left me an ocean of worries, love.

Troy writes.

Daisies Gladiolas and Hollyhocks

monarchs lead the petite butterflies
daisies, gladiolas and hollyhocks smile
two welcoming Adirondack chairs
under yellow and orange umbrellas
welcome my friend to my garden
where foxglove and iris await

Bantu

Glaring white lake stretches up to bushes’ shades.
Adirondack chairs and canoes align in grace.   





March 26, 2023      11.37am

Bird Convention

The red Adirondack chair called birds in from the north
Eastern, western and southern birds appeared too.
What is it about this chair? They asked each other.
With tweets and trills they discussed it.
None knew, but the crowd enlarged itself daily.
Pretty soon no one remembered that the chair was there.
It was just a mountain of birds.
A bird mob, birds of a feather,
And birds with nothing else in common at all
A bird convention
The chair was excited.
This had been her plan.

Winding Down

indian summer
the last of
fun cottage weekends

adirondack chairs
overlook
september sunset



AP: 3rd place 2020

Posted August 2, 2020

On the Arm of the Adirondack Chair

On the arm of the adirondack chair
(painted unafraid purple by a pale pink hand),
All new-penny cinnabar shine,
Noble as any bald eagle,
Ahead, which I guess may be side-to-side,
He watches tall as a robin into the
long-hot-shadow-waning-of-May ochre light.

Summer Dreamland

My bathing suit under a sundress
I race to the end of the dock
where my adirondack chair calls to me

A canoe glides by in the distance
and a blue heron is poised for breakfast...
the placid lake awaits an August sunrise

Making the most of vacation adventure
a swim at crack of dawn
an oversized mug of iced coffee 
a light summer novel...

Is there a better way to start a summer day?



Published in my 24-page photo/anthology ~CAFFEINE INFUSION~ 2020

AP: Honorable Mention 2022, Front Page Pick 2024

Submitted on May 3, 2019 for contest OBJECTIFYING A SEASON sponsored by SHERI FRESONKE HARPER  -  RANKED 7TH

Adirondack Chairs

adirondack chairs
a twosome by the river ~
late summer sunset



Submitted on March 4, 2022 for contest H - HAIKU sponsored by CONSTANCE LA FRANCE

AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Originally posted on September 11, 2018

Seaside Dream

I lie back in our Adirondack chair,
And feel the soft breeze over sunset waves,
Drowsiness claims my senses. and
I imagine that ship in the distance I see
Shining in the last bit of day
Is my captain coming home to me.
In my heart I hear the flapping canvas,
The splashing of the oars,
And the jolly songs of sailor boys
Filled with happy anxiety.

Tattered and torn they may be
From their months riding on the sea,
For a while they will be home,
Though they will soon again roam
To the call of their passion, their love.

My captain warned me of a wife's loneliness,
But I love him more than any longing.
He is the holder of my heart,
And my life is my prayer for his safe return.

But it is only a seaside dream.

Misty Morning

It’s a dreamy misty Sunday morning
With the sun ever so lazily rising
Zen the heron fishing yond
Stands tall and patient in the pond

This is cottage living at its best
Sitting on the deck feeling blessed
Breathing in the woodsy air
From my favourite Adirondack chair
Serene, never feeling so free
In awe at the sleeping lake before me

I think of folks and things bygone
I feel a glowing surge of bliss
Let me put the kettle on
so you and I can reminisce



(Yes, I named my heron Zen)

AP: 1st place 2022, Front Page Pick 2022

Submitted on February 9, 2018 for contest KETTLE, POND, LAKE sponsored by NAYDA IVETTE NEGRON  -  RANKED 2ND

Adirondack Air

At the foot of the massive massif bluffs which bounce atop upstate New York,
The air is thick with suburban smog bottled beneath the mountains' unpopped cork.

The fumes from factories of the foothill folk have feigned a fluorescent flora:
Sickly neon trees which litter the mountains' feet with a parasitized dimming aura.

Yet through the upward winding roads which sprint through the veins of Troy,
A thinning air begins to brag of a bigger breath that which a tree might better enjoy.

For in the Adirondack Park, where a mile up is met by one hundred and sixty wide,
The savior of the Mountain Air sits above the broken boundaries beneath her sides. 

Rescued from the valley below where breath is but a wanton worry of what comes next,
I've been blessed with a chance to escape from the underworld of wires, screens and texts.

I thank these mountains for their unblemished air which echoes with songs of loons,
Who skim across the trickled placid puddles of lake where people party upon pontoons. 

I owe the Mountain Air for my view of life as love,
A sight some miss without a chance to see from up above.

Hudson Valley, New York

Hudson Valley, New York


Oh, Hudson Valley, place that I call home,
you hug the river from which came your name.
On fertile banks, the settlers came to roam
and stayed to prosper and your land proclaim.

Your winding Hudson River grew their dreams
with farmlands, orchards and new industries,
and lovely homes that languish in your scenes
atop green rolling hills with graceful trees.

And from my window, you present to me
the vision of your peaceful valleys and
the sparkling river waters that flow free
from north to south thru Hudson Valley land.

When weary from the stresses of each day...
I relish in the peace your views portray.


Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~ 
Contest: Sonnet About Where You Live
Sponsor: Silent One
Judged: 01/07/2017


Note: The Hudson River begins at Lake Tear of the Clouds in the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York. It flows to the tip of Manhattan in the southern part of the state.
My home is in Newburgh, a town along the Mid-Hudson Valley, sixty miles north of New York City.

Adirondack Kind of Morning

Soft leaves underfoot, mosaics of nature
Sleeping in shadows of yawning maples
Beneath these stretching branches I roam
Foot steps in rhythm with a woodpecker’s cadence
Humming to the harmony of dawn’s cool breeze

Sunlight weaves past distant mountain peaks
Warming my face, enhancing my vision
Miles evaporate like morning dew
Moments become an ever changing serenity
For happiness waits at the end of this journey

Clear waters race between glistened stone
I splash my face in anticipation of a new day
Dreaming of her on an Adirondack kind of morning
Following a path through the mirrors of my thoughts
Listening for the endless echoes of love 

Peaceful vistas beckon my heart’s desires
Cleansing my soul in lilac wanderings
Breathing the air of solitude affection
Knowing this sunrise lifts her from sleep
Praying her first thought is of me

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